


Here to Save Him

by flutterflap



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords, Gen, Introspection, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutterflap/pseuds/flutterflap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble-y missing scene, set near the end of LotTL</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here to Save Him

In the seconds after the shot rang out across the observation deck of the Valiant, Jack acted purely on instinct.  Soldier’s instincts, that made him twist toward the sound instead of away from it.  He prised the gun from Lucy Saxon’s nerveless fingers.

Jack felt relieved.

The Doctor knelt on the floor with the Master cradled in his arms, and Jack could only hear snatches of their conversation, but he heard enough.

_Don’t be stupid, it’s only a bullet.  Just—regenerate!_

_No._

Jack felt relieved.

The Doctor was shouting it at him, now.  And then the Master lay still, and the Doctor wept.  

Jack hated himself for it, but he felt relieved.

He looked around.  The others stood transfixed, all eyes on the Doctor.  His cry of anguish carried across the deck, and Jack felt a sudden wave of disgust with them, all of them: staring at the Doctor laid bare by events that none of them, Jack included, could ever fully understand.  He bit it back—he knew how unfair it was—and moved between them.  A touch here, a few murmured words, and soon the deck was clear: the Joneses gone off to an adjoining room to sit and absorb the shock; an unresisting Lucy Saxon taken away by the guards; the rest scattered where they would.  Jack didn’t care.

The Doctor hadn’t moved.  Jack watched him for a moment, rocking the Master’s body back and forth and weeping silently.  He crossed the room and stopped a few feet away from him.  “Doctor.”

No response.  He hesitated before he came closer, but the Doctor only flinched when Jack laid a hand on his shoulder.  “Doctor,” he said again.  He still didn’t reply.

Jack knelt and, as gently as he could, tried to disengage him from the Master’s body.  He resisted at first, clutching the Master even tighter, and then all at once he came away with a cry.  He flew at Jack, lashing out blindly.  Jack dodged him, but didn’t move away.  A few blows landed and glanced off.  They weren’t intended to do damage.

He got his arms around him.  “I’ve got you,” he said.  The Doctor struggled for another moment, and then all at once he was clinging to Jack instead of fighting him, clutching handfuls of his shirt in his fists.  His knees buckled and they both sank to the floor.  “I’ve got you,” Jack repeated.  “It’s over.”

“I could’ve saved him!”  The Doctor’s voice was muffled against his shoulder, and it took Jack a moment to make out what he was saying.  “I could have saved him, I could have saved him...”  

Jack held him tighter.  _You stupid proud bastard,_ he thought.  _No, you couldn’t.  And it would have destroyed you._ Aloud he said, “I know.  I’m sorry.”

Better this way.  If he had thought the Doctor would ever forgive him, he would have shot the Master himself, killed him quickly so he would stay dead, because this would pass.  This storm of grief and rage would pass, and there might be scars—there always were—but they would be only that.  This would pass.

The Doctor shuddered in his grasp and let out a sob.  His fingers dug painfully into Jack’s flesh.  “It’s over,” Jack said again.  Hot tears soaked through the fabric of his shirt.  He rested his chin on the Doctor’s head and rocked him back and forth, waiting out the first squall.  



End file.
